


Silk

by BeetleQueen



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, Hand Jobs, Sensation Play, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:23:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8534821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeetleQueen/pseuds/BeetleQueen
Summary: Anonymous asked: Can I request Jareth in a kimono? Just that. Combine it with other prompts if you want but just /sigh Jareth in a kimono





	

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt appeared just around the time I was planning BKS. So you have that to thank for why I wrote him in her kimono ;p
> 
> You can pretend this was the chapter that never was~

Jareth grinned to himself; all alone in Sarah's room.

He wasn't doing anything wrong - that was what he told himself at least. Jareth had been minding his own business when his hand slid across something silky.

That was a lie. He'd been trying to get all the laundry put away before Sarah got back; his way of impressing her. But when he went to change her bedding, something softer than satin slipped under his fingers as he grabbed the pillowcase.

Stuffed inside it was a silken robe. When Jareth pulled it out, he recognised it as what Sarah's magazines referred to as a kimono. It was black with orange and white accents, and it wasn't long before he was pressing it to his face, inhaling deeply.

He'd take what he could get...

Another thought passed his mind, and Jareth smirked. He was going to do the laundry anyway... She'd... Never have to know..?

Jareth checked the bedside clock - he had another hour and a half before Sarah got home from work.

 

* * *

 

Sarah left work early, making up an excuse about feeling ill. She did not feel ill; just stressed and fed up. And anxious about leaving Jareth to his devices in her apartment. It was a recipe for disaster...

She decided to enter the house quietly. If he was getting up to mischief, or screwing around she'd be able to sneak up on him and give him a good spook.

Sarah grinned, sneaking inside and immediately slipping off her shoes. She padded up the stairs, minding the one step that always creaked, and made her way down the hall. She'd heard a strange noise, deciding to follow it, and her brow furrowed angrily when she heard it again from her room.

Oh he was so dead...

She continued on, silent. Sarah imagined all the ways she'd make him suffer for whatever the hell it was he was doing—

Her murderous thoughts were halted when she heard an unmistakable moan. Sarah paused, listening carefully. A moment later she heard it again. And it was definitely Jareth.

Sarah trod the last few steps to her door, holding her breath. Said door was slightly ajar, meaning all she had to do was push it an inch or so. Sarah did just that, peeking through the gap.

Jareth was...

Sarah's eyes nearly popped out of their skull at what she was seeing. His usual clothes were scattered haphazardly on the floor beside the bed, and he was lying in said bed, draped in nothing more than her kimono..!

What stopped Sarah from slamming open the door and kicking his ass was the fact that he was using said kimono to give himself a silky handjob.

It would be... rude to interrupt, right?

Sarah bit her lip, watching as the Goblin King trembled and bucked. His usually pale face was pink and sweaty. His unruly hair was even more so, a complete birds nest from where he'd been thrashing against the pillows.

She noted the way he kept snatching glances at her bedside clock, his hand speeding up. "S-She's going to be home soon..!" Jareth whimpered to himself. "If she catches me like this—!" He groaned loudly, imagining the ways she might punish him - a long shot, but he could dream, right?

Sarah felt a wetness and heat pool between her legs. God, it was so wrong to be watching. But he'd started it..! If Jareth hadn't trespassed into her room in the first place, she wouldn't be lurking behind her own door.

Sarah bit her lip, watching him writhe. He kept teasing himself - almost reaching his peak, and then stopping and slowing before staring at the clock. He was... getting off on it. Getting off on the idea that she might come home and catch him like this..!

Sarah felt a smirk pull at her lips - what a sweet revenge...

Jareth was pumping into his own hand, the slippery softness of the now soaked fabric sensory bliss. He was so close he could taste it.

Sarah mentally rehearsed it. For a moment she was sure she'd knock upon the door, singsonging his name with condescension. She realised that yes that would startle him, but it wasn't exactly the nicest way to go about it.

Perhaps she would just walk in, and say nothing? Let the moment speak for itself? Sarah nodded; that seemed the better option.

She ignored the part of her that screamed to just turn around and leave. That wasn't an option anymore.

Sarah pushed the door the rest of the way open, half thankful and half irritated that it hadn't creaked. Jareth was lost in the moment, his eyes closed, and his hips rolling in time with his fist - he still had no idea.

Sarah was tempted to clear her throat, but once again stopped herself. The silk fabric complimented his lithe frame, moving fluidly as he writhed about.

She wasn't turned on - that wasn't why she was still watching.

Jareth then made a whimpering sort of noise, his body language shifting suddenly to desperate. He gasped, and keened, his hand speeding up.

One hand was by his mouth as Jareth bit his knuckle, crying out. Said hand then shot to the bedsheets, fisting them, his back arching. He cried out again, and Sarah was struck by how very vocal, and raw he seemed in this moment.

No pre-rehearsed grin. No smugness. He was authentically Jareth right here and now.

Sarah chewed her lip, watching Jareth rock lazily in his afterglow. She was about to turn to leave when he spoke.

"If she ever knew..." He muttered, stretching his now sore muscles. "She'd throw you out onto the street." Sarah rolled her eyes - only Jareth would refer to himself in the second person.

"Maybe make you sleep on the couch." Sarah then spoke, folding her arms.

She'd expected Jareth to shoot up like a startled cat, but the shock had him rooted to the spot, his eyes firmly fixed on the ceiling.

"W-When did you..." He gulped. "You're not due back for another—"

"Half hour?" Sarah hummed. Jareth nodded. "I had a feeling in my gut that I couldn't trust you on your own..." She tapered off.

"I'm sorry. I'm... so sorry, I— I didn't know know what I was thinking, I..." Jareth stammered, now sitting up, his hands shifting to hide the mess he'd made of her robe. Sarah watched his cheeks turn scarlet; his eyes were wide with worry, his lower lip trembling.

Before Sarah could stop herself, she was walking over. Jareth shifted slightly, trying to cover himself. One of Sarah's had grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

"Why are you apologising?" She mumbled, trying her best to sound confident. Sarah used his stunned silence to continue. "For giving me such a hot show..?"

"I'm... not in trouble..?" Jareth fought to hold her gaze.

"No, you're in trouble." Sarah chuckled. "So you'd better start begging for my mercy." She'd meant it as a joke, but the noise it ripped from Jareth was beyond pathetic.

"Should I... get on my knees..?" His cheeks were still pink, but he looked far more excited now than embarrassed.

Well... it would be rude to say no, right?


End file.
